|
The other night I had a crazy dream |
|
'Bout a man in a fishing hat selling magazines |
|
All the way from Kingston he'd worked his way down |
|
I bought him a drink on the night they kicked him out of town |
|
He said, \"You know I don't like the way I am.\" |
|
\"No, I don't like the way I am.\" |
|
And I saw an old fisherman out swayin' on a dock |
|
Swigging a jug of something and a string of fish that he had caught |
|
His wife had left him just a week before |
|
She packed up her bags and waltzed on out the door |
|
She said, \"You know I don't like the way I am.\" |
|
\"No, I don't like the way I am.\" |
|
And then she cried |
|
And you and me walked down the shores of our youth |
|
Chasing the sunrise, challenging the truth |
|
It's all so distant now I've seen too many lies |
|
Turning my vision into crumbling demise |
|
Makes me wanna say |
|
You know I don't like the way I am |
|
No, I don't like the way I am |
|
But I'm gonna change the way I am |
|
I'm gonna change the way I am |
